


Constance

by PontiusHermes



Category: Twin Peaks
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen, Male-Female Friendship, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Platonic Soulmates, Sickfic, Sweet, non-romantic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-23
Updated: 2018-01-23
Packaged: 2019-03-08 17:30:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13463073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PontiusHermes/pseuds/PontiusHermes
Summary: Albert has been sent back to Buckhorn on a new Blue Rose case, to examine bodies with coroner Constance Talbot.After coming down with a virus, Constance is uncharacteristically exacting and hard to work with, and Albert is surprisingly kind.





	Constance

Constance knew she was sick from the moment she woke up. Pounding head, slight aches, probably viral, but she had twenty-four very interesting bodies in the freezer and an FBI forensics specialist arriving to help because there was no obvious cause of death for any of them. She got up and took her temperature. It was a bit high, but she was still fit for work. She smiled as she got ready; this was going to be an interesting case.

She had just started on her second cadaver for the day when she heard footsteps at the door. 'This company's beyond ideal for you, Constance: cold, stiff, well acquainted with death…'

Constance turned to see Albert Rosenfield standing in the doorway and gesturing to the cadaver on the slab. She ripped her gloves off in a series of swift and practiced motions and went to him, taking his hands in hers. 'In that case, I'm sure you'd be very welcome,' she told him with the merest trace of a smile. 'Twenty-four bodies in there. I've done four. No obvious cause for any of them, but unidentifiable dark, viscous liquid in the cranial cavities…'

They worked contentedly the rest of the afternoon, focussing on different parts of the same cadaver, showing each other anything interesting, and taking turns to write up and stitch. Constance was one of the few people Albert could respect in his line of work, and for once he had no criticisms to make. They talked and quipped as they worked, each finding, as they had the previous year, an unusually appreciative audience in the other. Despite this and Albert's great experience and skill, Constance had begun to repress a niggling dissatisfaction with his methods, the way he stitched and wrote up, how he tidied the room at the end of the day. After he'd left she quickly put everything in its usual position, but the thought of the rest, as well as her virus, plagued her the whole night.

The next morning was worse. _She_ felt worse, for one thing, more tired and feverish, and the differences he made to the way things were done drove into her sharply. She felt stupid for being so bothered how he stitched and wrote, and worried it would ruin their companionship, so she swallowed her annoyance and tried to work. She talked and joked less.

'Is anything wrong?' he asked surprisingly gently after she declined his suggestion that she should eat. She wanted to snap at him that he was doing it all wrong, but she smothered the writhing inside her until it was small enough to hide. After a lifetime of being the cold, remote, more-comfortable-around-the-dead-than-the-living person her colleagues kept away from at lunch, she wanted so much not to ruin herself to her only sparring partner and almost friend. She twisted her hands and forced a smile. 'No, it's fine. You have some lunch. I'll just finish up here.'

He returned to find her furtively relabelling his evidence packets in the format she favoured. 'What are you doing?' She started and turned to him, eyes wide, caught in the act. She hadn't altered the information, he saw, just rewritten it.

Albert would have mocked anyone else until the end of his assignment for such pernickety behaviour, but Constance… She was good at her job, and quick enough to swap witticisms while she worked. The day prior she had given him the space to work his way, and now she was looking up at him with a mixture of shame and apprehension that told him she wasn't doing it to criticise. He sighed. 'You don't like the way I label the evidence? You could have said. I would have tried-'

'It's not just that,' she said with failing forced calm, 'it's- everything… I'd restitch your bodies if I had the time… your paperwork…' She shook her head. 'But there's nothing wrong with any of it. It's just… me.' She inhaled shakily. 'I'm sorry; I should have been clearer…' Her breath came in tight, quiet almost-sobs, and she kept her gaze on the implement tray in front of her. 'There is _no way_ I could explain to you what I want that could make you do it right.' It sounded so stupid and exacting that the tray warped and faded behind a screen of tears.

He caught her shoulder gently. 'Constance, I don't know if you're well enough to be working. I don't know what it is, maybe some coping mechanism for being sick -- you are sick? --, but you've been- weird… neurotic, almost obsessive-compulsive.'

'I'm sorry,' she murmured. 'I'm hard to work with. I mean… What you do is,' she swallowed, '…fine. It's good. You're a very experienced and thorough forensic pathologist, and whatever you do is fine, and-'

'I'm not offended. Put that stuff away?' He gestured to the cadaver and various pieces of equipment. She nodded. 'Take your gloves off,' he said. 'I'll pack up.'

She smiled tightly. 'It's OK.' She knew he would try to put things as they should be, but he could never do it right. 'I'll take care of it.' He smiled and went to wait outside the door while she straightened the room to her satisfaction. He could use the afternoon to begin writing his report with the information they'd already gathered. Constance seemed surprised that he was still there.

'Is there anything I can do for you?' he asked.

She shook her head, gratified by his concern. 'No, thank you.'

He sighed. 'Take care of yourself. Make sure you're calm before you drive.'

She nodded. 'Good night.'

'Good night.'

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! :)  
> Constance <3
> 
> Pontius


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